


The Tale of Little Red Riding Hood

by salamanderinspace



Category: Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale), Little Red Riding Hood - All Media Types
Genre: Anarchism, Dark Fairytale, Death, Fairytale Retellings, Fairytale typical violence, Gen, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Relativism, POV Female Character, Terminal Illness, alienated labor, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamanderinspace/pseuds/salamanderinspace
Summary: Karen encounters the wolf.
Kudos: 2





	The Tale of Little Red Riding Hood

This is a fairy tale for children. Sometimes fairy tales for children can be dark.

There once was a woman named Georgia, whose job was to look after sheep. She had wanted the job because she always liked daydreaming and she thought she might have time to daydream as a shepherdess. It turned out, though, that sheep-minding was very tiring, with long hours in the hot sun and no one around for miles except the old shepherd. He was not very nice. He made Georgia fill the water troughs, lay out mineral blocks, weed the fields (in case anything poison grew; the sheep didn't know how to eat what was good for them), and even sheer the sheep and collect the wool. The sheep also had to be moved between pastures, and moved in and out of the rain. They needed their hooves trimmed occasionally, and their hay changed every day. The work was endless. If Georgia got tired and slowed down, the old shepherd would yell at her in a very threatening way. She was always afraid for her job, and also a bit afraid that he would hit her.

Georgia did not have any money to move to the city and find a different job. Her mother sent her letters from the city; work there was also very hard, and did not pay well. So Georgia did her best to keep on. Fortunately, Georgia was very fond of the sheep, especially how soft they were. To cheer herself up she started a project. She saved her wages for a long time so she could afford to buy some wool. You might think, "why couldn't Georgia just take some wool from the sheep she minded? She took care of them and sheared them, couldn't she have some of the wool?" However the shepherd was very possessive of the wool. He wanted to sell it all so he could retire, pass the farm to his son, and go fishing. The old shepherd loved fishing, though he was not particularly good at it. The king made fishing licenses very expensive, so usually only the most dedicated fisherman could buy them.

So Georgia purchased some wool from the farmer. She carded it and cleaned it and processed it very carefully. It took many weeks to get it ready, especially since she was so tired after minding the sheep all day. However she felt a sense of passion when she worked with the wool. She got very excited thinking about what color she would dye it. There were so many to choose from! Of course she had to save up to buy the dye from the dye-maker. It was possible for a person to make their own dye from plants and herbs, but Georgia had never had a chance to learn how. She ended up choosing a bright, rich red for the color. It took lots of dye and lots of experimentation before she finally got it the color she wanted. When it was finished it was majestic, like something the king would wear. 

Georgia was very lucky, in that she had read in a book once how to make a simple spindle and spin the wool into yarn. This part was a little repetitive, but relaxing. She liked being by herself and daydreaming while she worked. She didn't have to pretend to be nice and social, like when she was working with the old shepherd. After she made the yarn, she had to knit the wool into fabric. Her knitting needles were homemade, too, from sticks she bought from the shepherd. (She had tried gathering sticks secretly without his permission, but he caught her and made her pay for them.) Spring changed to summer and summer changed to fall. Slowly, Georgia made a heavy, soft, warm fabric. Everytime she worked on it was like an adventure. There would be mistakes and dangers, but her skill and perseverance yielded results. When the time came for her to sew the fabric into a garment, she was giddy with anticipation. She had saved up for a while and bought paper and a crayon to make a plan. Putting great thought into the design, Georgia had imagined a cloak with a hood. Something old fashioned but also exquisite. Her tiny, patient stitches brought the cloak into existence. It was like magic.

Except when the cloak was done, Georgia felt a bit empty. It wasn't a perfect cloak; it had many flaws, because she didn't have the best equipment and knowledge to make it. She had spent more on the supplies to make it than it was worth in the market, really. It was an absolutely beautiful color, and a bit larger and thicker than most cloaks one could buy at the market, but it was otherwise unremarkable. She couldn't think of anyone she could show it to. So it got folded neatly and stored in a wooden chest in her cottage.

Weeks went by, and the winter grew cold. Without a project Georgia started to feel desolate, empty. Sometimes she took the cloak out and sat with it by the fire. Work was very strenuous on her at this time, and she couldn't bring herself to do much more than rest.

Then Georgia fell ill. It started with her feeling too tired to work. For a few weeks the shepherd came by each day to "check on" her - really, to scold her and make her feel guilty for being unable to work. Then she started to become very visibly sick. Her skin turned green, she developed headaches, and she was unable to keep food down. She could not afford to see a doctor. When Georgia was little, the king paid all the doctors to see everyone, but in recent years the King was very stern with his money. So Georgia became worse and worse.

The shepherd grew impatient and told her she had to leave the cottage by the pasture if she could not keep working. He needed to get someone new to come in and replace her. Georgia went to live with her mother in the city. Georgia's mother did not know much about caring for the sick, and so Georgia declined even further. The only comfort for both of them was the red cloak, which kept them warm. Some of the flaws were easy for a skilled seamstress to repair, so Georgia's mother fixed it up a bit.

As spring approached it seemed that Georgia was going to die. Georgia's mother took the red cloak to the market and sold it to a second-hand shop. It didn't sell for much, but it was enough that Georgia could see a very poor doctor. It was hard to get an appointment. The doctor was very busy. When he came, he did many tests, poking Georgia with needles and making her move in ways that made her headaches worse. He wasn't there for very long and he didn't explain what he was doing. In the end, he told Georgia she would need a very expensive medicine, which was manufactured by a wizard in a far off land. "But what am I sick with?" she asked the doctor. "Headaches," he replied. "Unknown cause. They respond well to this wizard-medicine, though."

Georgia died and was buried in the summer. From her grave we must depart, because the truth is, this is not a story about Georgia. This is a story about Karen.

Karen grew up in the city. In many ways she was fortunate; for instance, she was very beautiful. She had shining white skin and golden blond hair. However, Karen did not have a happy life. Her parents were very cruel to her. When they bothered to notice her, they criticized all sorts of details about her looks and her body. Her mother never asked her any questions, even "how are you?" but instead prattled on about herself. This is because her mother's mother had raised her to act this way, punishing questions with spiteful answers. But all Karen knew was that her mother didn't care about her very much.

When Karen turned 16 years of age, Karen's mother started to notice that Karen seemed very angry and standoffish. The older woman wanted to repair the rift between the two of them, so she went to the market to find a present for Karen. This is where she observed the red cloak--Georgia's handmade cloak. Karen had several cloaks, but the red one was hooded, and it had a very unique color. So Karen's mother bought it, along with some pastries.

On the village road on the way home from school, Karen was walking with her friends when a carriage came by. In it was her mother. "Karen," she said, "get in. I have something for you."

"We're going to the lake," Karen said, gesturing to her friends. She already had plans for the afternoon.

Karen's mother did not care about Karen's plans. "Don't be ungrateful," she said. "I took this cab all the way from the market. We never spend any time together, lately."

Karen didn't like spending time with her mother. However she did not say so; she did not want to anger the woman, making the evening more difficult and perhaps inviting punishment. "All right," she agreed. "See you later," she told her friends.

The red cloak was a pleasant surprise. It fit perfectly. It looked a bit irregular and handmade; Karen suspected her friends would make fun of it, so she made a mental note to wear it when she wasn't around them. "You can wear it tonight to go see your grandmother," Karen's mother pointed out.

Karen groaned. She hated going to see her grandmother. The way through the woods was cold and dark and unpleasant. "Are we going up the forest road?"

"No, not both of us. I thought you could take some pastries to grandma on your own. I have to work tonight." Karen's mother launched into a long explanation of the project she was doing at work, and how frustrating it was. She complained about how all the people she worked with were inept at their jobs, and instead of hiring more people, the bosses pressured Karen's mother to pick up the slack. By the time Karen's mother had finished talking, they'd arrived at the forest road. Karen said goodnight and got out of the carriage with the pastries on her arm.

Karen started the long walk through the woods. She had money to take a carriage, but few ran through that route. The woods smelled of burning rubber due to a factory upriver. It made Karen dizzy to breath the toxic fumes. She wished the king would shut the factory down, though she supposed the factory made useful goods like carriages and cuckoo-clocks. As Karen contemplated how useful carriages were, she thought, squinting into the distance, that she could see one coming up the road. It had a warm light that Karen found very promising. She sped up. Her feet were already tired, and she didn't want to spend another minute in the dark. It always seemed like she was wasting time on lonely, unpleasant things when there was so much else going on in the world. She felt very disconnected from everything.

When the carriage arrived, Karen was shocked to see it was pulled by a she-wolf. The creature was large and mean-looking, and dressed very sloppily and unfashionably. Karen was frightened of her. "Need a lift?" said the wolf. "Where to?"

"Grandma's house," answered Karen. She climbed into the carriage. It was shabby and made a loud creaking noise as it gathered speed, but the seal of the king was engraved on the seats. They travelled without speaking for a bit, through the darkness and the stench. Karen wondered whether grandma would give her spending money during their visit (she did, sometimes). Finally the wolf spoke.

"Oh! I can smell it!" she said, giving a little sneeze.

"The factory?" asked Karen. "It does reek." Karen wondered why the king did not hire a foreign wizard to magic away the smell. She'd heard that wizards were very expensive, but surely this would be worth it!

"It does," agreed the wolf. "But I meant that I smell your pastries! You see, I haven't eaten all day." Karen didn't know what to say to that. She felt slightly uncomfortable. "Yep," the wolf continued at length. "No lunch breaks for the king's carriage-workers! And I can't afford to eat much myself. Got to feed my children." Karen felt sorry for the wolf. She also felt angry at the wolf for making her feel sorry.

Then she began to be afraid. She heard the wolf's stomach make a growling noise. She'd heard stories about wolves eating humans when they couldn't get anything else to eat. It wasn't common, but it happened. "I think I'd like to walk the rest of the way, if you don't mind!" Karen said. She hopped off the carriage and made off into the woods without giving the wolf a tip.

If you know much about fairy tales you can probably guess what happened next. When Karen reached grandma's house, the door was open. The wolf and her pups had devoured grandma and were sorting through her clothing. It was unseasonably cold outside, you see, and the cubs had no other way to get new clothes. When Karen saw them, she dropped the basket of pastries and ran. It was too late, however. The wolf caught her in an instant!

As the wolf devoured Karen, she found that her fear began to dissipate. A kind of calm washed over her. An apparition appeared to her: grandma, smiling and holding her hand. There was another woman as well, a young woman with dark skin. "Who are you?" Karen asked.

"My name is Georgia," the woman said, over the sound of the wolf's snarling and crunching.

"Georgia," Karen said, "the wolf is eating me."

"We all die," Georgia pointed out. "At least your wolf is getting some enjoyment out of you."

"But it's my body!" Karen said. Then she realized that wasn't true. Her body had never been her own. It had always been controlled by others - by her mother, by her friends. Even the women who made her cloaks made her body feel warm; the women who made her pastries made her belly feel full; the factory-workers who made the carriages made her feet feel less sore.

Karen was in a kind of trance-state in those final moments, but for the first time in her life, she didn't feel angry. She didn't feel alone anymore, like she had in the woods before meeting the wolf. She felt she was part of the world. As she took her last breath, she heard a sound from far off, one she'd never heard before: the crying of sheep in a pasture.

Once Karen was dead, the she-wolf took the red cloak and put it on. "Come, pups," she said, "let us go to the lake." And the lake is where they stayed for all their happy days, until the King had them jailed for hunting fishermen without a license.


End file.
